She's Still Here
by nyteangelofdarkness
Summary: Killian sits his granddaughter and muses on Milah


"Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, we can always take her with us-."

"Henry, Henry," Hook, Killian Jones shook his head at his step-son and easily bounced the babe at his shoulder. "You and your wife go and take a nice long walk. You both deserve it. Hell, you look like death warmed over, lad. I can care for Alice for a short while." He had to hold the tiny girl away from her own father for his own sake. She had been born five months before but lately the perfect tiny girl was awake night and day. Grace called and had nearly begged for a few hours reprieve from their angel. Henry on the other hand couldn't let her go.

"Henry Mills get your butt over here," Grace called from the front door.

Killian smirked at Henry, oh they both knew that tone when it came from their wives. A deep sigh was his answer and Henry shrugged on his coat again. The February night was beautiful with the soft snow and gentle breeze. Perfect for a nightly walk.

"Better go, lad. I have her, I swear nothing will happen to the little princess."

"Thanks, dad. I mean…I feel so bad leaving her with you-"

"And you don't think your mother and I didn't toss the others to your grandparents once and awhile? Every parent needs a break, Henry. She's your first so it's hard but that's what grandparents are here for. So scat, go on that walk with your wife. Go to Granny's and get something to drink and them come back."

"Fine. We'll be back in a bit." Henry backed out of the room, almost afraid to look away from her and finally left. Killian swayed back and forth with the little babe until he heard the front door shut and finally the centuries old pirate and the babe were left alone.

"Well now little one what shall we get up to?" he mused aloud. Steel grey eyes looked back at him. The tears that had been rolling down her little cheeks when he had arrived had dried up. A small smile crept onto her lips as he cooed at the little girl.

Mary-Alice Mills was a sweet little babe and love by so many. Nine grandparents clamored over every whim of the little girl. The night she was born was a near brawl to the order of who would hold the babe. He ended up having to twist Robin's arm to beat him for the honor after Jefferson, Neal, Emma, her parents and Regina had their turn.

It was a new feeling- to hold his first grandchild, especially since his own children were only just twelve and ten respectively. It was an unusual experience to think that he would even have the chance to have a grandchild. Never had he thought he would be in this position. These simple moments always shook him to his core. He was a pirate, he was- at least at one point- quite ruthless and dark. These days though, the seemed to melt away the years that were carved into his soul…they seemed like a mere dream now.

The babe shifted and Killian gently cradled her with as much instinct as he once swung a sword. Years of practice with his wife's siblings, his own children prepared him to hold the first grandchild. She garbled and giggled at him when he bounced her around the soft pink room. Hanging above her crib was the blue glass mobile that hung over three generations of Charmings.

A wide baby smile crept on her face and she sputtered out simple noises that he swore she only made with him. Ever so gently, Killian offered his long ago blunted hook for her to play with. A weapon once sharpened to kill this child's great grandfather was now a simple blunt tool used for everyday things, including a child's play toy/teething tool much to his wife's dismay. Alice grabbed for the cold shiny object and practiced her grip, giggling and smiling all the while. He cooed to her in a nearly forgotten language his father had passed onto him- a version of what Emma had called Gaelic in this realm.

Whenever he spoke the lulling words of his past it caused him to wonder what they would say, the people he had left behind. Would his father have been proud to see him with his own family? Killian knew in the letters he had been left this was to be his fate-this happiness- but even reading the letters with Emma pregnant with their eldest he still held a sliver of doubt that it would work out. Over time that dark sliver had faded into nothingness after each addition to his ever growing family came, after more happiness and love surrounded him.

What would his brother have said to see him like this? Love struck and at the beck and call of his family. Liam had never been one to want to settle, always joked at the simple life Killian had craved for in his youth. Liam was always looking for the next adventure and for the elder Jones that never included a family. He wondered if Liam would have liked to have his name passed down-to carry on the adventure through another person. He saw a lot of Liam in his own son, the same stubborn streak ran through him. The need to defy everyone to prove a point.

Alice yawned, breaking his deep thoughts. Swiftly, Hook moved to the hand crafted rocking chair and sat with the little girl. Grace had said she hadn't slept well in days and by hell he was going to get her to rest as long as he could. Sea grey eyes opened and closed in a rhythm as steady as the waves. She yawned once again and snuggled closer into his warmth and protective embrace. Hook had seen those eyes before. When one lived this long it was hard not to see connections that crossed generations. In this little girl he saw his Milah. From the day she arrived he could see her features on the babe. The look that crossed the Crocodile's face let him know he wasn't delusional. They both saw her features in this tiny girl. The same grey eyes from day one captivated them all. As she grew older and her face shifted the same nose he had come to know well developed on the little one's face. Similar eye shape, and even her chin -that had surprisingly not been passed down from Snow -was eerily familiar. When time went on rich brown locks grew to cover her tiny head, the same as her great grandmother.

It was hard to look at the young girl the more she took on Milah's features. As much as he was embedded in his own life, as much as he loved his wife and children, looking at Alice made Hook flash back to those long ago happy days. Those flashbacks to a time where he had again considered a family with an entirely different woman than he ended up with. His granddaughter embodied the dream children they had. Shivers went up his spine.

She was still with them now, wasn't she?

She was immortalised through her bloodline, people would always carry a part of her with them. Bae carried her with him, Henry too and now this little one.

"She looks happy."

Hook looked up to see Henry leaning against the doorframe looking quite refreshed. He pushed off the door and strode over and gently brushed her dark hair.

"She looks like your grandmother," Hook mused.

Henry pulled back and contorted his face, looking at his daughter. "I guess…kinda. I mean she does have dark hair. Doesn't have that chin everyone keeps saying gets passed down."

Hook shook his head. "Other grandmother, lad."

"Oh," Henry let out. He paused and look Mary-Alice over. Killian watched the cogs turn in the young man's head.

"Does she really?"

Killian nodded and shifted her when she began to fuss. "Aye. She has her eyes for certain. Looks like she has her hair and nose too. And spunk, but that could come from many of her other relatives." He winked and chuckled but Henry remained silent. Hook watched the emotions play across his face, almost looking guilty of forgetting his father's mother.

"What did she look like?"

Hook stilled at met Henry's intense gaze. The lad had never actually directly asked him about Milah, just knowing she was a figure of his family's dark and twisted past. A still sensitive subject between the involved parties. While it still brought up deep emotions to speak of her it was nice to hear his lost love's grandson wonder about the woman he had never met. She would have like him, Killian thought. They would have talked over adventures and story-telling, things that seemed to have found the pair in one way or another…a magical curse, a swashbuckling pirate who travelled the seas. Both inspired others to go where they may not have gone before.

"She was beautiful," he began, trying to recall the face that had sparked his centuries of revenge. "So full of life, so intense. Milah…she just wanted to go everywhere and see everything. She talked me into some situations _I_ didn't even want to enter. She had these liquid grey eyes that shifted like the sea, the same this little one seems to possess. Rich brown hair, fine but strong features." He paused and looked Henry over. Killian had never really seen Milah in the boy before. He looked so much like Neal and Emma rather than skipping generations but in his step-granddaughter (and potentially adoptive-great-granddaughter when considering in Milah) he saw a great mix of her heritage between either sides. "I think your father has a sketch I had of her from a long time ago. You should ask him of its whereabouts."

"Not sure that's a subject he's willing to talk about that just yet."

"For you I think he might make an exception."

Henry muttered his agreement. The young man stepped back then began to fuss around the room. Killian sat in the chair and continued to sooth Alice.

"Hey Killian," Henry broke the silence. Killian looked up at Henry who now leaned against the crib. A serious yet distant look had settled on his face.

"Aye, lad?"

"Do you think you could draw another picture of her? I mean…" he paused and crossed his arms. "I know my dad wouldn't want to share that picture but…I want to know, you know? I know Alice will have questions eventually. I just want some answers for Alice, and myself and you seem to be the only one who has anything nice to say about her."

He couldn't answer. Words caught in his throat at his step-sons request. It was heartbreaking to hear the other parties involved held such a bad memory of her to the point they refused to tell her grandson about her. He deserved an answer, a good memory of her. The parties involved each held their own memory of the situation but it was not fair to Henry to tarnish her memory by their own personal views on her. It seemed it was up to him to pass on what good memories she created. He had his own fair collection as well as stories Baelfire had spoken of during his time on the _Jolly_, the time when they had been somewhat happy.

"Aye, Henry. I'd love to."

Killian rose and gently placed Mary-Alice in her crib. She scarce said a peep as she was transferred from his grasp. Henry stood beside him and brushed her soft curls away from her face.

"Thanks, dad…for everything."

Killian wrapped an arm around the younger man and pulled him close for a moment.

"Anytime, lad, anytime."

Henry pulled away and looked down at his daughter. "Do you think she would have liked her?"

"Milah? She would have loved her…and you for that matter."

"Some days…some days I really wish I had been able to meet her."

Killian sighed and nodded his agreement, he clapped a rough hand on Henry's shoulder. "Aye, so do I. But she's still here with us. Her spirit I see in you and in your little one so always know that although you never met her, she's still with you."

Henry sighed and quickly wiped at his face, brushing away the tired emotions. A deep sigh proceeded his departure. A quick goodnight and the Killian said goodbye to Grace before he walked the block to his and Emma's home. He stopped at the end of the path to Henry and Grace's home to look back at the quite homestead. He knew they were still with then, everyone that they had cared about and lost. They were all still there, watching and protecting.

"She's still here," he whispered, then started on his way home.

* * *

><p>Hello! Back on placement so wanted to get this out in celebration of a good first day. A on(c)e shot from my world in relation to Welcome, Kiss It Better, Distinguished etc. Please feel free to check out the other shots in this 'verse and please read and review. Lovely reading all!<p> 


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